


How To Make A Monster

by Mistystarshine



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loss of Identity, M/M, Multi, most pairings and characters are mentioned/referenced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-08 01:31:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5478278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistystarshine/pseuds/Mistystarshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A cup of loss, a spoonful of betrayal, a dash of horror, and just a pinch of jealousy. Stir until inhuman. </p><p>Or, how Takizawa Seidou ceased to exist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How To Make A Monster

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aroriza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aroriza/gifts).



> Happy Holidays, aroriza! I'm not sure if this was what you were looking for, but I hope you like it just the same.

It started with memories. Happy memories, swooping in whenever he needed to get away, whenever it became too much. _It_. So many facets to such a simple word. Hunger, disgust, pain, misery, Eto, Eto, _Eto_.

Eto was a synonym to all those things, he thought.

( _How ironic, how absolutely **hilarious** , that the greatest of the monsters that had hunted had only been **half** all along._ )

( _And now, so was he. What a wonderful joke._ )

A good portion of the time, these memories featured his family. However, they had been coming to include _them_ more and more often. The one who had avoided this fate (of course she had, always one step above, always superior) (always beautiful) and the one who shared it (How would he handle? Better than him. He had always been strong, but he, he could feel himself fraying.) and deserved anything but.

He missed them.

* * *

 

_Trying to hold himself with a certain amount of composure was a struggle on most days. Today? Today it was absolute torture. His stomach was churning, everything was too loud, too smelly, or too bright, and he had a headache powerful enough to make him wonder if his brain was trying to crack out of his skull. He tried to act like it was nothing, but people kept giving him looks. The sort of looks that said, 'aaah yes, I know exactly what happened here'. Mingled expressions of pity and amusement as they saw right through his alcoholic walk of shame._

_Takizawa hated hangovers. From the side-effects to the looks to the embarrassment that has welled up when he talked to 'the bastard'. The only silver lining was that she was bound to be feeling just as bad as he was._

_Or not._

_There was Akira, looking bright and splendid as always. Like she hadn't gotten completely smashed like the light-weight she was. As if this was a completely normal day and she was feeling absolutely **fine**. He couldn't help it, he stared. He outright gawked. He took in the glory that was her and felt a seed of agitation begin to bubble in him. No. No. This was not okay. She had been drunker than he was! How come she looked like some alcohol-immune goddess while he was - no!_

_He didn't notice that his face had begun to turn pink or that his staring had been noticed. Akira glanced his way, an expression that came painfully close to concern upon her face. "Takizawa? Are you alright?"_

_The investigator in closer took a few steps closer to her, sputtering as he tried to find the words he wanted. An accusatory finger was pointed in her direction. "You... how are you...!?" He meant to ask 'how are you not hungover', but the words didn't manage to crawl out of his mouth. He blamed the hangover._

_"Oh, that." For a moment it looked like Akira may blush. Akira. Not an alcohol-induced blush like last night, but an emotions-induced one. Like an actual human being. That would have been one of the stranger things he had seen. But she caught herself before she could show anything but her usual aggravating command and superiority. "Amon helped me." A simple statement, like brushing a piece of lint off her shoulder. One she provided absolutely no clarifications for, as she soon walked off to get back to work with a suggestion that he do the same._

_He did not. Instead, he stood there for a moment, trying to piece together what she meant. With her hangover? She meant with her hangover, right?_

_Takizawa was pretty sure she meant with her hangover. None the less, even though he would loathe to admit it, he momentarily felt a spur of jealousy. (Who was it toward? He had no idea.)_

* * *

 

Memories were all well and good, but as he began to break down, so did they. Memories were nice, but they weren't now. They would never be _now_ again. Eto had made a point of letting him know that. So he began to weave together fantasies. Hopes and dreams to cling to even if they would never come into fruition. (He tried not to let himself think that, but he had never been an optimistic person. It was a losing battle right from the start.)

In some of these daydreams he had never been caught. Never gone into battle. (For whatever reason, it took a very long time before he started to imagine if he had never joined the CCG.) Others took place in the future. Someone rescued him, Akira or Amon, sometimes both, and everything turned out okay. He never thought beyond 'everything turned out okay'. There was no way for him to figure out _how_ everything could possibly turn out okay because he knew, deep down, that it would never be okay again.

Still, there was a chance. Maybe, maybe, mayb- no.

For someone who had lost one of her prized guinea pigs, Eto seemed quite gleeful when she informed him that Amon had escaped. Escaped and left him behind. Of course she did. No matter how much she hated losing, she loved making others hurt for it even more.

He tried not to be mad. He tried to understand at first. Amon was probably in conditions just as bad as him, maybe better, maybe worse. He may be strong, but he couldn't be invincible. He had to get out if he saw away. (Even if it meant leaving him, abandoning him, letting him rot and unravel until everything that was _Takizawa_ was dead.) He tried, but he had always been jealous. That jealousy turned into something malevolent. The fantasies he had entertained began to come down to the worst case scenarios, just as he began to boil down to the worst parts of himself.

* * *

 

_Pain, words, venomous words, you should eat, you need to eat, you **will** eat. Monster?_

Amon was strong. Stronger than him, at least. Surely he could have saved him!? It wouldn't have taken too long. Wouldn't be too hard to come back and save him. Unless... unless he couldn't. Aogiri had made him something and he didn't know what it was, but he knew it was strong. Hah! Maybe he hadn't helped him because he was _scared_ that he wasn't the big hero to look up to anymore. Or maybe he didn't know, maybe he was just a selfish coward who had left him to rot. It didn't matter. He hated him either way.

_A bite of parents. So tastey - what have I done? - oh god - oh yes._

Akira hadn't saved him. He tried to think that he had probably been declared dead, but maybe that wasn't it. Maybe she was just happy that now no one could try to bring her down from her spot as number one. He hadn't liked to admit it, but he did have feelings for her outside of that jealousy. Clearly she didn't feel the same way. He hated her too. (He thought he did, but there was also so much shame.)

_Monster? Why yes. Monster now, maybe always, always meant to be._

Takizawa had been an idiot. He had been weak. Well, it was only the owl now. Takizawa was dead.

He missed him.


End file.
